


In Russia, Love

by SubversiveSocialite



Series: To Russia, With Love [23]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: (Daddy/Mommy/baby used during sex), (minimal), Aged-Up Character(s), Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, Angst with a Happy Ending, Coming Untouched, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Dry Orgasm, Faint Humiliation Kink, M/M, Mentions of Sex Toys, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Nursing, Roleplay, Spanking, mentions of bondage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2018-09-08 16:12:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8851498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SubversiveSocialite/pseuds/SubversiveSocialite
Summary: Yuri is reunited with his lovers in Moscow. It goes a little differently than anyone anticipated.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yuri is eighteen or age of consent in the reader's jurisdiction, whichever is older.

“One more time,” Yuuri coaxes gently, sliding his closed hand up and down his and Yuri’s cocks where they’re pressed flush between them. His hand is covered in come from their previous orgasms and Yuri is panting shakily, curled so his head rests against Yuuri’s chest. “Can you come one more time for Mommy?” 

The blond whimpers in response. “Of course he can,” Victor replies, moving behind Yuri to cage the blond between his two older lovers. “Yurio is a _very_ good boy,” Victor breathes, sending jolts down Yuri’s spine as the words catch against his ear, low and intimate.

“Yes,” Yuri affirms, struggling to regain control over his breathing. “Yes, Mommy, I can.”

Yuuri smiles, pressing an affectionate kiss to the crown of Yuri’s head. He twists his wrist as he pulls up, rubbing the sensitive underside of their cocks together, pressing them close just under the head. “Fuck,” the blond swears.

“Yurio,” Victor scolds. “Language. You kiss Mommy with that mouth.”

“I do a lot of other things to him with it too- Ah! Ah!” Yuri whimpers as Victor spanks him abruptly, once on each side of his ass. The blond’s cheeks flame red as his cock swells further, his visible enjoyment at being put in his place obvious to both of his lovers.

“S-sorry, Daddy,” Yuri manages between Yuuri’s continued ministrations.

“If you want Mommy and Daddy to let you play with your toys later, you have to behave now,” Victor chides gently, pinching one of Yuri’s nipples in each hand and smiling as the younger man writhes helplessly under him. 

“I’m sorry we can’t play with them tonight, since you and Mommy have a competition tomorrow,” the silver-haired man continues more gently. “After it’s over, Mommy and Daddy will play with you as much as you want,” he promises. “ _If_ you behave until then.”

Yuri just moans, gasping into Yuuri’s touch. They rock together in the black-haired man’s grasp as Victor tortures the blond’s nipples.

“Promise?” Victor asks, tugging Yuri’s nipples straight out, away from his body. He can’t see Yuri’s expression, but the look on their Japanese lover’s face tells him all he needs to know.

“I promise,” Yuri sobs, and then, “Daddy, Daddy, please, can you just- your cock, Daddy,” the blond begs incoherently, rutting back and forth between his lovers.

“Do you want Daddy’s cock?” the silver-haired man asks, grinding his half-hard, come-covered cock into the cleft of Yuri’s ass. Yuri jerks under him at the sensation. Victor takes his dick in hand, pressing just the head against Yuri’s rim.

The blond gasps, bucking up into the touch as he comes dry, moaning helplessly as he shakes apart between his lovers. “Good boy,” Victor murmurs in his ear as he comes. “Such a good boy, coming for Mommy and Daddy so many times.” As the aftershocks of his orgasm peter out, Yuuri lets go of the blond’s cock so Victor can shift him. The older Russian leans Yuri so he’s sideways on the dark-haired man’s lap, right side pressed flush to his chest. Yuuri drops an affectionate kiss to the blond’s lips, and Victor presses kisses all over his face teasingly as the younger Russian grumbles. 

“Did Mommy and Daddy tire you out?” Victor asks sweetly. “Mommy certainly tired _me_ out, but he doesn’t seem very tired at all,” the silver-haired man adds, eyeing Yuuri’s still-hard cock.

“Victor, leave it,” Yuuri protests, attempting unsuccessfully to bat his lover’s hand away. The dark-haired man groans as Victor strokes his oversensitive cock.

“Too much?” The silver-haired man asks in concern, stopping his touch.

“Y-yeah,” Yuuri sighs, cradling Yuri to him with an arm. “Sorry, it’s just- with the way we’ve been doing things tonight, because of the competition-”

“That’s okay,” Victor replies easily, shifting to kiss his black-haired lover gently. “Do you think you can manage another orgasm?”

“I- probably,” Yuuri assesses, “But- I can’t handle-”

“Mommy looks nice covered in come,” Yuri observes casually, watching Yuuri’s dick as it leaks, Yuuri gasping at his words. Victor smiles, pressing himself along Yuuri’s right-hand side so he can see both of his lovers’ faces.

“Let us know if you need us to stop,” Victor murmurs. Then he adds, “I was disappointed that I couldn’t see Mommy fuck you tonight. I’m looking forward to seeing you and Mommy play together after the competition.”

Yuuri takes a long, shuddering breath as Victor talks, but he doesn’t protest. “I want to play with my toys,” Yuri complains. “And I want Mommy and Daddy to fuck me. I don’t like not getting milk with both of you here.”

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri apologizes, kissing the blond. “Mommy and Daddy just want you to be able to skate your best for the competition, and not be too sore.”

“I know,” the blond replies, “But that doesn’t mean I like it.”

“Don’t worry, baby, you’ll have plenty of toys to choose from after the competition. Daddy bought some new ones special, since you’ve been so good,” Victor promises, kissing Yuri. “I even got some matching ones for Mommy,” he purrs, looking at Yuuri with dark eyes. The black-haired man shudders, his swollen and aching dick dripping with come. “Do you like the sound of that, baby? Do you want to match with Mommy?”

The blond lights up, and then drops into a more guarded expression. “What kind of toys?” he asks suspiciously.

Victor laughs. “What kind of toys do you want to see Mommy use, baby?”

“Ropes,” Yuri replies immediately, grazing Yuuri’s tightly drawn nipples as he draws a pattern on his lover’s chest. “Black ones would look pretty on his skin.”

“You like the thought of Mommy helpless?” The silver-haired man teases, watching Yuri brush the faintest pressure over a nipple, leaning in so close it looks like the blond will take it in his mouth before he blows on it gently instead, making Yuuri whimper.

“Yes,” the blond says without hesitation. “Daddy should tie him down and fuck him. Mommy doesn’t get emptied enough.” The dark-haired man’s hips shift as he rocks them a little helplessly at the thought of being fucked until he comes dry.

“You’d have to help me, baby, or Mommy would wear me out first. Could you do that?”

“I guess I could ride him,” Yuri says. It sounds like a concession on his lips, but his expression is eager.

“Kiss Mommy, baby, and tell him how much you want his cock,” Victor directs gently.

The blond leans up for a kiss, taking Yuuri’s head in his hands and holding his lover close as he devours Yuuri’s mouth. “I want to take Mommy’s milk while he’s all tied up and helpless,” Yuri murmurs, looking up at his lover, and Yuuri whimpers against the blond’s lips as he comes, spilling all over them both.

“My, what great stamina Mommy has,” Victor teases, admiring the spill of come down Yuuri’s cock after so many orgasms as Yuri settles back against the dark-haired man’s chest. 

“All the better to fuck you with, my dear,” Yuuri replies, eyes half-lidded. Then he lights up in embarrassment, eyes wide. “Uh, I, um-”

“Exactly,” Victor purrs, laughing as he leans in to kiss Yuuri. “My, Mommy really is filthy, and so is our boy,” he murmurs, sweeping his gaze over his messy lovers.

“Daddy made a mess, and now he has to clean it up,” the blond announces. Then he shifts to take one of Yuuri’s nipples in his mouth and starts to suckle contentedly. 

“I suppose Daddy has been making you clean up a lot of his messes while you’ve been in Russia,” Victor teases, getting a washcloth from the bathroom and starting to wipe his lovers off as Yuri nurses. 

“Thank you,” Yuuri murmurs, sharing a brief kiss with Victor. He and Yuri both look ready to fall asleep at any moment. 

“Of course,” the silver-haired man murmurs. Victor takes care to be gentle as he wipes them down, particularly their oversensitive cocks. “Only the best for my loves.” He settles on Yuuri’s left, where he can press Yuri’s back to his chest and throw an arm around his youngest lover as the blond mouths at Yuuri’s nipple contentedly.

“Our baby missed his Mommy, huh? It must have been hard to go so long without nursing,” Victor remarks, squeezing Yuri a little. He looks up at his dark-haired lover, who looks completely relaxed. “Looks like Mommy missed nursing you, too.” 

Victor kisses the top of the blond’s head. “Two days of competition, and then we’re all yours.”

“Finally,” Yuri mutters, pulling back just long enough to say that one word before pressing himself back against Yuuri.

Victor laughs, exchanging a smile with Yuuri over the blond’s head.

“Finally,” he agrees.


	2. Parting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor and Yuuri deal with the fallout of Mari's call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, heads up for major mood whiplash, since this chapter takes place shortly after Yuuri gets the call about Makkachin. This will be much sadder than usual, with reminiscing about Vicchan, so please be forewarned.

“Tell me what this is really about?” Victor asks quietly once they’re back in their room. He cradles Yuuri’s cheek in his hand, eyes soft as he looks at his lover.

Yuuri leans into the touch automatically, some of the tension slipping from between his shoulders. “My dog, Vicchan, died before the last Grand Prix Final,” the dark-haired man explains softly. “I never got to say goodbye.”

Victor pulls Yuuri close, hugging him tightly. “Oh Yuuri,” he murmurs sympathetically. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t- I don’t want Makkachin to be alone when-” Vicchan, at least, had been surrounded by Yuuri’s family when he had passed. But Makkachin is in a country far from home, and Victor is in Russia- Yuuri tries to pull back when he starts crying, conscious of Victor’s expensive suit, but Victor just presses his face back where it was.

“We won’t lose Makkachin,” Victor promises his lover with that boundless confidence Yuuri has always admired. The Japanese skater continues to sob quietly into the jacket of his lover’s suit. Victor holds him until the crying has turned into hiccups, and then leans back just far enough to gently wipe at Yuuri’s blotchy red and tear-streaked face.

“You should pack,” Yuuri murmurs.

“I want to pack you,” Victor mutters, pressing their foreheads together. 

The Japanese skater smiles through his tears, gently pushing at his lover’s chest until the Russian man reluctantly separates from him. Victor pouts a little as Yuuri ushers him towards the bathroom to collect his many personal care products.

The brown-eyed man tries to take a minute to collect himself, fondly offering up items as Victor searches madly for them.

“I don’t like leaving you alone here,” the silver-haired man complains again, stroking Yuuri’s face. “I should call Yurio and ask him to come over.”

“Yurio is skating tomorrow too. He needs to focus on that,” Yuuri chides gently. 

Victor’s expression twists with unhappiness. “But Yuuuuri,” he whines as he lets his lover direct him back to packing. “He’d want to know.” The Japanese man’s mask of determination falters for a minute, but he tries not to let his Russian lover see it.

“Anything you forget to pack is staying in Russia,” Yuuri threatens. Victor turns large, watery puppy dog eyes on him, and packs with slightly more haste. The brown-eyed man takes deep breaths and sits on the bed, trying to think about his program for tomorrow. The noises Victor makes as he folds and zips his things into a semblance of order are soothing, a small reminder that Yuuri is not alone. He savors them, enjoying the domesticity of it. He’s half asleep by the time Victor finishes, his heart lurching as his silver-haired lover tugs a suitcase upright.

“Remember to eat well, and get a good night’s rest. I left my eye mask for you if you need it,” Victor murmurs, leaning in for a soft kiss. He makes to pull back, but the corners of his mouth turn down unhappily, and he cradles Yuuri’s face in his gloved hands instead, pressing butterfly kisses all over. The silver-haired man pulls back with a sigh. “Why is this so difficult?” he mutters to himself, voice so low Yuuri barely hears it. One hand slips from his lover’s face reluctantly. Yuuri leans into the remaining one instinctively, tears threatening to spill. 

Victor makes a helpless noise, pulling his dark-haired lover into his arms and tucking Yuuri’s face into the crook of his shoulder. Yuuri breathes deeply, everything he can see and smell and touch Victor, just Victor. “Makkachin and I will be waiting for you at the airport when you get home,” the silver-haired man promises, ripping an involuntary sob from Yuuri. “Yakov will be there to coach you tomorrow. And Yurio is in Room 906,” Victor murmurs, rubbing Yuuri’s back until he’s calmer. 

“You should get going,” the younger man murmurs at last, pulling away. 

Victor strokes a lock of hair from his face. “I want you to eat something before you go to bed. We should look at the room service menu and order you something-”

“Victor,” Yuuri protests.

“And you should set an alarm for tomorrow. Maybe two alarms, since I won’t be here-”

“Victor-”

“And don’t let that Canadian put his hands on Yurio, I’ve seen the way he looks at our boy-”

“Victor,” Yuuri insists. “Get going.”

The silver-haired man sighs, leaning in for one last kiss. He whimpers when his lover pushes against his chest after a moment, separating them. “I’ll see you in two days,” he promises.

Yuuri doesn’t think he’s ever heard a noise as viscerally painful as the one the hotel door makes as it shuts.

 

 

 

 

“So?” Yuri asks. “What do you want?”

Victor’s smile is stretched thin, and for once in his life he actually looks tired. “804,” he says simply, handing Yuri something. The blond takes it reflexively, and looks down.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” he shouts at the silver-haired man’s retreating back.

“Whatever you think is best!” Victor replies, waving absently as he makes his way out of the building.

“Are you freaking kidding me?” Yuri asks the empty section of lobby he’s standing in as a hotel door closes behind Victor. “Tch.” The blond looks at the keycard in his hand and heads back to the elevator. He has a few things to grab before he makes use of it.


	3. Chapter 3

Yuuri startles as the hotel room door opens, revealing Yuri holding his backpack as Yuuri’s heart lurches into his throat. The blond’s bag looks like it has nearly everything in it except his skating equipment, splashes of leopard print and purple sticking out of a not-quite-closed pocket. “I’m sleeping here tonight,” Yuri announces, dropping his bag on the floor next to Yuuri’s.

“Yurio?” the dark-haired man asks in surprise, glancing at the door as it shuts. “How did you-?”

The blond holds up a key card nonchalantly. “Daddy gave it to me.”

The words and the sight of his lover send mixed emotions coursing through him, relief, anxiety, and frustration all keeping him off balance. Ultimately he sighs in vague exasperation. “I’m sorry, baby, I told him not to bother you before your free skate,” Yuuri begins slowly, “It’s all right, you don’t need to do this-”

Yuri just looks at him, unimpressed. “When was the last time you slept alone before a competition?”

Not since the last Grand Prix Final, of course, which is a somewhat surprising revelation. Still, he won’t sacrifice Yuri’s career for what he already knows will be a subpar performance on his part. “Really, you don’t have to do this,” he assures the blond. “I’ll be fine, I can-”

“Mommy,” Yuri says in a tone much too authoritative to really be a request, “I want to sleep with you in your bed tonight.” 

Stunned, Yuuri pauses, taking a deep breath. The anxiety fluttering in his chest subsides a little, relief blossoming briefly. “Okay, baby,” he concedes, a little overwhelmed. Guilt rises up in him and he tries to tamp it down.

A firm knock on the door startles them both, making Yuri turn to glower at it. “Room service!” calls a woman’s voice in accented English, and the blond makes an irritated noise and goes over to yank the door open.

“Room service for Mr. Nikiforov,” the brunette in the hotel uniform says brightly, smiling at the blond and peering over him. Her eyes light up when she catches sight of Yuuri. She has a rolling cart loaded with two covered dishes with her.

Yuuri stares at her in confusion as Yuri and the room service attendant both look at him expectantly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t order food.”

“No, no,” the brunette says, still smiling. “Mr. Nikiforov.” Yuri says something in Russian, prompting a short, rapid exchange between him and the girl.

“Victor ordered it when he left,” the blond grunts, letting the girl into the room. 

She rolls the cart in and sets the plates and silverware on the table with brisk efficiency, removing the covers to reveal two identical meals. The brunette beams at Yuuri, bows, and leaves with a “Please enjoy!”

Yuri scowls at her back as she goes, and then at the two steaming plates set on the table. “He’s so full of himself. What would he have done if I hadn’t come, huh?” he mutters in aggravation. If Yuuri couldn’t see the pleased blush on the blond’s cheeks it might even be convincing.

The dark-haired man laughs weakly. “I guess we’re predictable.”

Yuri squints at the food and then scrunches his nose up. “Is that a heart?”

The brown-eyed man looks at the hearts drawn in their food and feels a sudden sharp pang of longing that rips a sob from him. Yuri’s eyes jerk over to him in surprise, the bright green of them assessing. It’s mortifying to Yuuri to be losing his composure over something so small, to be this lost without Victor there to support him, but Yuri just closes the gap between them to press close against his side and slides his arms around Yuuri’s waist until he seems calmer.

“You need to eat,” the blond decides, gently but firmly manhandling him into a chair and tucking a napkin into his lap. “Everything is better after you eat.” He says it with remarkable surety. Yuuri wonders if it’s something Yuri picked up from his grandfather.

The blond sits down across from him but doesn’t start eating right away, watching Yuuri instead. The brown-eyed man pauses with his fork halfway to his mouth, feeling self-conscious, and goes to lower it back to his plate. The blond reaches out, grabbing Yuuri’s wrist and bringing his hand back up to his mouth. The dark-haired man flushes a little and looks at Yuri for his cue before eating it. Apparently satisfied, the blond starts eating also, although he keeps eyeing Yuuri. Yuuri flushes, gratitude and affection bubbling up through his embarrassment. Yuri shifts so his legs rest against his lover’s and starts a running commentary about the antics of the other Russian skaters, which he manages to sustain even while shoveling food into his mouth. Ever so slowly, Yuuri’s shoulders start to relax as he eats, tension easing from them as Yuri’s warm weight grounds him. Eating still takes more effort and concentration than he wants it to, his lover’s green gaze lingering on him whenever his fork slows. Still, each bite seems to have a little more flavor than the last, until there’s only specks on his plate. 

Yuri’s commentary slows and stops, and he takes Yuuri’s fork from between his fingers to drag it around the plate, collecting those last scraps of food. “You missed a spot.” Yuuri blushes when the blond brings the fork up to his lips, encouraging him to have one last bite, but he takes it. As soon as he pulls back the fork disappears, and the rest of the dishware seems to go with it as Yuri whisks the remnants of their meal out into the hallway.

When he comes back in Yuri looks at him for a long, hard moment, and Yuuri fidgets, unsure what the look on his lover’s face means. Then the blond disappears into the bathroom. A disgruntled noise of assessment floats out with the sound of running water and a small smile flits across the dark-haired man’s face. The familiar sound makes tension slip from Yuuri’s shoulders.

“All his indulgences, and he can’t get a room with a bigger bathtub,” Yuri gripes, making the other skater look up in surprise.

“You don’t fit?” he asks in confusion. Yuri doesn’t seem any taller than he had been in Hasetsu, and Yuuri is sure he would have noticed after . . . well, after everything they had done before the competition.

“I fit,” the blond says, looking at him as though he’s being particularly dense. “But the two of us are going to be a little cramped.” For a moment Yuuri blinks slowly. Yuri starts to turn pink and then red as his dark-haired lover stares at him, not comprehending what’s going on. “If you don’t want to take a bath together we don’t have to,” he grumbles, looking away in embarrassment.

“I want to,” Yuuri blurts, turning a little red at his own outburst. He’s supposed to be the more mature one, but he hardly feels it. For a moment they pause in mutually embarrassed silence, and then Yuri grabs his lover’s hand and tows the dark-haired man to the bathroom.

Impatient hands grab at Yuuri’s clothing and this, at least, feels familiar. The dark-haired man smiles to himself as Yuri pulls and tugs until they’re both naked in the steam-warmed bathroom. Firm hands guide him into the tub and water splashes over the side as Yuri slips in behind him, a few unintelligible Russian grumbles elicited at the way their legs press tightly together in the small space. Yuuri smiles at the sound. He reaches for the soap, but his lover bats his hand away.

Then Yuri starts to wash him.

A warm cloth slides across his back, followed by the slick glide of soap, and then the wet warmth of water running down his back. The dark-haired man feels a little silly, sitting in the bathtub cradled between Yuri’s knees, but he can’t bring himself to move. The warm water being poured over him doesn’t wash away all of Yuuri’s troubles, but it makes the nervous coil around his heart ease a little as his lover slowly but surely works him over from head to toe. 

“Lean back,” Yuri orders at last, putting aside the soap in favor of Yuuri’s shampoo, and the dark-haired man obeys.

Water streams back over his hair, his eyes protected by a damp cloth. Yuri’s hands are gentle on him as the blond washes his hair with a single-minded focus. He lathers carefully, working shampoo into Yuuri’s hair. The dark-haired man curls into the sensation, letting the gentle rhythmic slide of Yuri’s fingers against his scalp lull him into a more relaxed state, content to let Yuri take care of him.

A soft kiss at the base of his neck startles Yuuri from his daze, and he makes an involuntary noise of surprise.

“Better,” Yuri murmurs approvingly into his skin, and Yuuri flushes red, self-conscious again.

The blond doesn’t let him wallow in it, sliding his fingers just so up the base of Yuuri’s neck before carefully rinsing Yuuri’s hair.

It’s a slow, unsteady process to get them both out of the tub, one that ends with Yuuri red from head to toe as Yuri towels him dry. When he’s done, Yuri looks his lover up and down like he’s assessing a newly polished medal and is decidedly satisfied with his work. Yuuri is only mostly sure he can’t die of embarrassment because he’s tested those limits before.

By the time they’re both standing next to each other at the sink brushing their teeth, Yuuri feels almost normal. If he lets the steam-filled bathroom slide out of focus enough it almost feels like they could be back in Hasetsu again. They slip into their pajamas and roll into bed with Yuuri still in that soft, comfortable state, letting Yuri’s warm weight against him ground him.

Yuuri blinks back into focus as a cell phone is thrust into his face and then retreats.

“Yurio, what-” he starts.

“Daddy’s sleeping alone tonight, and you know what a big baby he is about that. So I’m sending him pictures.” Yuri waves the phone in the air for emphasis. “We should take a selfie.”

“Ah, okay,” Yuuri agrees, trying not to look awkward as he smiles for the camera. Yuri tosses his phone on the bedside table once he’s done and curls into Yuuri.

“I love you,” Yuri says into the crook of his neck. Yuuri feels warmth bloom in his chest and spread through every part of him.

“I love you too,” he replies softly, holding Yuri close.

“Now go to sleep. JJ needs at least two ass kickings tomorrow,” Yuri mutters, making Yuuri smile. He also mutters something else that might be “Fucking idiot,” but Yuuri lets it go this once.

“Good night, Yuri.” He waits until the blond’s breathing evens out before grabbing his cell phone off the nightstand and taking one more photo.

 

A continent away, Victor looks at his phone and smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> Note: I have finally poked at Tumblr a little, so my username is subversive-socialite if anyone is interested.


End file.
